


Riddle Me This

by Xyriath



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Consent Play, M/M, Monsterfucking, Riddles, Sphinxes, Trans Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26572507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: Shiro can’t look away from the purple eyes locked on his own.  They strip him bare, opening him up in a way that leaves him even more vulnerable than if those sharp claws and teeth had sunk into his flesh and flayed him to the bone.A common fate for those who fail to answer a sphinx’s riddles.  And Shiro had already made the agreement to try, with the explicit understanding of what will happen to him if he fails.Succeed, and he will be permitted to pass.  Guess incorrectly, and his flesh will be forfeit.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 73





	Riddle Me This

**Author's Note:**

> Never posted my things for the Monster Sheith Zine I guess?? Fixing that now!

“Give me food and I will grow; give me water and I will die.”

Shiro can’t look away from the purple eyes locked on his own. They strip him bare, opening him up in a way that leaves him even more vulnerable than if those sharp claws and teeth had sunk into his flesh and flayed him to the bone.

A common fate for those who fail to answer a sphinx’s riddles. And Shiro has already made the agreement to try, with the explicit understanding of what will happen to him if he fails.

Succeed, and he will be permitted to pass. Guess incorrectly, and his flesh will be forfeit.

He ponders, turning the riddle over in his mind. It’s not an uncommon occurrence, running into some mythical creature for whom riddles are the core of their existence: in the ruins of some forgotten temple, walking streets you shouldn’t after sunset, in the line at your local Starbucks. The wise might earn a wish or treasure for their troubles, while those less so might find their freedom, youth, luck, or even life gone from them in only a moment.

The wisest of all, perhaps, never take these challenges in the first place.

But Shiro won’t back down. He never has, and turning around is simply not an option.

_ Focus on the second part. Water, dying… _

The answer strikes him like a lightning bolt. “It’s fire!”

The sphinx—Keith is his name; all sphinxes introduce themselves prior to issuing their challenge, of course—snorts, pacing from side to side, though not out of the way of where Shiro needs to pass.

“Lucky guess,” he grumbles, and Shiro only raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe you’re not as clever as you think you are.”

The sphinx snarls a little at that, crossing his arms and glaring. Shiro takes the brief moment of respite to take in the creature in front of him.

He’s never seen a coat like this on any sort of cat before; once, he’d googled “cherry red fox” and gotten something similar, but seeing it up close, the sleek red fur—truly red,  _ bright _ red, not just tiger orange—is something else entirely. It covers the long, lithe, muscular body of a big cat, then fades into pale skin over muscles just as defined. Shiro loses a moment to appreciating those, the solid arms crossed over a bare chest, the dark hair falling around the fine features, before his attention snaps back to his peril.

“What do you fill with empty hands?” the sphinx snaps, his initial cool and calm demeanor now gone. Those purple eyes now glitter, hard as gemstones, in Shiro’s direction.

Never a wise idea to insult a sphinx. But Shiro just can’t resist.

Empty hands. Fill. But you couldn’t fill if nothing was there…

_ Ah. _ So filling is the key, here.

It takes him longer than the initial riddle, but long enough thought and years of practice lead him to the answer.

“Gloves,” he finally replies, voice smug.

Keith narrows his eyes even further, quietly seething at the apparent ease with which Shiro has passed the two hurdles.

Shiro almost feels sorry for him.

“You still have one more,” Keith declares imperiously, tossing his head. It’s a majestic movement, and elegant.

“Then by all means.”

The sphinx’s expression develops into what is definitely a pout, and Shiro decides that the wisest course of action here involves tempering his laughter.

“The more you take, the more you leave behind.”

This one seems… tricky. Shiro frowns, thinking it over. It’s clearly something unusual, or Keith wouldn’t have asked. But he hasn’t lost yet.

He settles back. He’s gotten quite good at this, over the past few years. He won’t give in that easily.

More you leave behind… more you take… think of the two. The two  _ together. _

But much as Shiro’s riddle-solving prowess had served him well previously…

This one is  _ hard. _

He toys through several interpretations, plays with the words, turns them over and over in his head…

But nothing.

Keith growls across from Shiro once again, but this time, it rings with the sound of satisfaction.

“Time is ticking.”

“I know, I know!” Shiro continues to wrack his brain.  _ The more you take, the more you leave behind. _ There  _ is _ an answer.

It just happens to escape Shiro.

“No,” Keith murmurs, stepping closer. “You don’t.” He licks his lips, a flash of red around bright white teeth. “Time’s up.”

“No!” Shiro protests. If he fails here… “I need more. Please.”

“Well, you don’t get any more.”

He crouches for a moment, a form of coiled muscle and tension that leaves Shiro breathless.

And then he  _ can’t _ breathe, the great weight of the sphinx crushing his chest. He hadn’t even seen the leap.

A deep rumble rolls through Shiro’s bones, and he shivers at the sphinx’s next words.

“ _ Your flesh is forfeit. _ ”

Shiro’s shoulders prickle: the long, golden claws have unsheathed from Keith’s paws and now poke through the fabric of Shiro’s shirt.

And above him, Keith looks so, so hungry.

The weight, however, lessens, and after a moment, Shiro can move again. But still, furred, red legs imprison him on each side, and Shiro has no doubt about the odds of success if he were to try to escape.

Finally, the low, raspy voice sounds from above him.

“Roll over.”

Shiro moves to obey with alacrity, levering himself off the wooden floor and turning, bracing his hands on the panels. Hot breath ghosts over the back of his neck, and he closes his eyes, moaning softly as a thrill rocks through him.

Keith says nothing more, instead reaching down to grip Shiro’s wrists, pressing them into the floor, and Shiro gasps. Warmth spreads through him, beginning from between his legs, and without prompting, he brings up his lower half, bracing his knees on the floor and arching back into the warm form above him. To his surprise and delight, he meets the long, hard length of a stiffening erection when he does.

His dismay at being delayed is quickly fading, replaced by eagerness and anticipation. Now this—this is a price he can pay.

Keith ruts forward for several moments, as if in a deliberate attempt to show Shiro how large he is, as if to threaten—or promise—what Shiro is soon to take. Shiro can feel the trickle of wetness between his legs, arousal curling through him, and he finds himself groaning, spreading his knees obligingly as Keith’s hind legs settle between them.

The hands on his wrists press them both harder into the floor as two heavy front paws slap against Shiro’s thighs, the claws pricking into the sides as they grip his jeans and yank them down.

For his part, Shiro wriggles to help with the process, kicking until they’re off, bare knees now pressing into the cold wood. He can feel himself flushing as he realizes how exposed this has left him, leaving Keith with a full view of his cunt.

Shiro can hear Keith exhale from behind him, and surprisingly gentle hands run up his thighs, gently prise apart the cheeks of his ass, and Shiro's face burns even hotter.

"K-Keith—" he chokes, a heat burning between his legs, and the hands stop.

"Shhh," comes the murmured reply, and Shiro gasps as a nose unexpectedly presses against his tailbone. "Stay still, and I'll make you scream."

Shiro can't stop the moan that escapes his throat as desperation crashes over him, nearly drags him down into incoherence. "Oh, god—"

A rumble from behind him—a purr, this time, not a growl—and something hot, wet, and rough presses flat against his cunt.

As promised, Shiro  _ screams _ as Keith licks slowly, almost leisurely, as if savoring a favorite dessert. It slides inside Shiro, a tease, a  _ promise _ , and as it fills Shiro in a way that’s not quite enough, he nonetheless relishes the filthy, carnal pleasure of it. The sensation has to be like nothing else in the world, he’s sure.

With another moan, he spreads his legs wider, baring himself for the sphinx.

As Keith continues to fuck Shiro with his tongue, a pair of hands slide up underneath Shiro’s shirt, tracing over ribs, gripping at pectorals, teasing at nipples. Fingers trace the bones of his collarbone for just a moment, and then the shirt is being pulled over his head, baring his back to Keith as well, leaving him almost completely naked except for the shirt tangled around his biceps, holding them together and restricting Shiro’s movement.

Shiro’s not sure if it’s that or if it’s the smug laugh that vibrates between his legs that draws that cry from his lips, and as Keith continues to eat him out with an eager vigor, Shiro allows himself to fall into something resembling a trance, shivering at the intimacy of being opened like this, of what it was going to be like to be  _ taken _ like this.

The purr continues to rumble behind him, and Shiro exhales, croons, presses back,  _ needing _ , god…

“ _ Please! _ ” he finally manages to beg, and a sob bursts forth right after at the intensity of the sensations.

A louder rumbling of pleasure, and Keith pulls away, leaving Shiro utterly bereft for that single moment in time, in absolute  _ agony _ at the loss.

But it lasts only moments. Two fingers thrust into Shiro, curling lazily and pressing up against a spot that warms through him like dark chocolate, but it’s only a cursory movement, checking that Shiro is ready. He quickly withdraws with a soft  _ pop. _

But Shiro doesn’t have to wait for long. Before he can so much as cry out, a thick cock presses up between his legs, rubbing teasingly for a few moments before, with no further preamble, thrusting home into Shiro.

Shiro tilts his head back and cries out, tightening around Keith involuntarily. This only serves to emphasize the girth within Shiro, and his head spins as he forces himself to still, with the exception of some trembling.

Another rumble, this one of satisfaction at Shiro’s acquiescence. Keith runs hands up the flat skin of Shiro’s back, clearly relishing in the sensation, then braces his front legs on both sides of Shiro once more. This time, when Shiro arches up, his back meets soft fur, and he bites his lip in anticipation.

Keith doesn't keep him waiting.

Without another warning, he pulls back, then thrusts forward quickly with such force that Shiro's teeth click together. It's all he can do to suppress another cry; as Keith withdraws again, the sensation returns, and a sharp sensation—one that borders on pain in such a way that heightens the pleasure to near-ecstasy—drags through Shiro's cunt.

Keith continues his movements, and Shiro's toes curl as he loses everything around him with the exception of the cock that thrusts into him. With each movement, the barbs, almost sharp enough to be unpleasant but not quite, catch within him, slowing the retreat, only to be followed by a quick, fierce thrust. Keith continues to growl—or purr; Shiro isn't in the right state of mind to tell, not right now—and the rumble vibrates through the both of them. Pleasure arcs through Shiro, driving him quickly and relentlessly closer to a peak, and he drops his head, gasping, as his forehead touches the floor.

"Mine," rasps the sphinx, voice now ragged and unsteady in a direct contrast to the imperiousness of before. "All of this. Forfeit, to me."

"Yes," Shiro keens in reply, the words striking as true as each thrust. He bites his lip, spreading his legs a little more, though the sphinx has no need of it. He had mounted Shiro with a quick and decisive efficiency, and now takes his pleasure with a singlemindedness that borders on animal. Shiro gives him everything he demands and more, opening for him, tightening around him in a way that leaves him groaning with pleasure, whispering pleas that might have been too quiet for a human ear, but undoubtedly can reach that of a feline.

"You're so beautiful," comes the reply, though Shiro cuts it off with a desperate keen at the particularly slow withdrawal of the cock, the barbs lingering within him.

Shiro's body responds as eagerly as he had, and through half-closed eyes, he can see a puddle dripping onto the floor between his knees. His gaze flicks from that, to the lion's feet between his own, and then all the way up to the cock, in sight even bigger than his imagination had provided, that disappears into Shiro's cunt again, and again, and again...

Shiro manages to fumble with one of his own hands, all the way up to his thigh, briefly tracing through slick and hair, and finally finds what he's seeking.

He slides his longest finger between it all, beginning slowly as he strokes his clit. It's a different kind of pleasure—wilder, sharper—and he begins to rub in time with Keith's thrusts, bringing himself closer, overwhelmed by the movement behind him and inside him and around him. Keith shifts, and for a moment Shiro fears he's going to stop; instead, he lifts a paw, following Shiro's arm, until he reaches the back of his hand.

Placing the paw over it with a surprising dexterity, he presses slowly against it.

Shiro whines and allows Keith to guide his finger, thrust it in time with the cock, and  _ god _ , he needs more but it’s too much all at the same time—

With a growl and a particularly harsh thrust, Keith gives it to him, burying deep within, and the pleasure crashes over him. Like everything else, it’s messy and unexpected and overwhelming, leaving him barely able to form a coherent thought.

And Shiro absolutely  _ basks _ in it.

Through the bliss rippling through his body, he realizes that Keith has tensed as well, and sudden warmth has pooled within him. So much of it, and he distantly wonders if he’ll be able to hold it all, or if some of Keith’s seed will spill from him once he pulls away.

They stay locked together, breathing in the scent of each other, drifting in the sensation of such closeness. But eventually reality begins to intrude: Shiro’s back has cramped, his knees are sore, and he has to pee.

“Okay,” he pants, chest still heaving, but the lust has cleared from his mind enough that he’s now able to form coherent sentences. “Okay, let me up now.”

Keith grunts, but the weight lifts from Shiro’s back, and then Shiro is biting his lip as he withdraws. Though not agonizing, the sensation is never quite as pleasant as it is during coitus.

As expected, Shiro watches a not-unsizable stream of come trickle to the floor, and though his belly still swells with it—god, he’s going to be bloated the rest of the day, and Keith is going to be  _ insufferably _ smug at how much Shiro is going to enjoy it—it leaves a mess beneath him.

It’s going to be such a mess to clean up later, he thinks, distantly forlorn.

But for now, their coupling has left both of them satisfied—though one more than the other.

“There,” Shiro grunts, pushing himself to stand on wobbly legs and pulling the shirt completely off. “I lost, you got what you wanted. Can I get by now?”

Keith’s eyes lift to Shiro’s, and he looks… almost penitent at the trouble he’s caused, but not quite.

Unsurprising, him being half-cat and all.

Shiro slides past him, unconcerned with his nakedness, and stops only to briefly wash his hands in the kitchen sink before pulling open the fridge.

He flips open the top of the pizza box, thinking, for the third time, that he should probably put what’s left in bags instead. He’ll think it one more time by the end of the week, since after he picks up the two slices he was after, there are only two left.

He briefly eyes the microwave, but decides that, barely able to walk and with sphinx come dripping from between his legs, this time he can skip the effort. Instead, he makes his way back to the living room, drops off his meal on the coffee table, and heads to the bathroom to take care of business.

When he returns, Keith has sprawled himself across most of the couch. His tail twitches lazily as he watches Shiro, eyes half-lidded and sated, but he’s considerately set a towel on the remaining cushion. As he should, Shiro thinks fondly, for causing so much trouble.

With a groan, he settles into the offered seat on the couch, and Keith promptly drapes his human half over Shiro’s lap, demanding affection even after having fucked Shiro to within an inch of his life just minutes before.

Shiro sighs and reluctantly allows him a few ear scritches before turning his attention to his pizza.

Even as he savors the cheese, anchovies, and pepperoni ( _ almost _ as good as sex, but just almost), though, he can’t help but grin at the purr now rumbling through both of them.

“You know,” he finally murmurs around a mouthful of pizza, “you don’t have to demand that I answer riddles  _ every _ time I try to get into the kitchen, you know. I’ll happily have as much sex with you as you want, but sometimes I just want to have some pizza first.

Keith yawns, tail twitching, as if metaphorically tossing away the question. 

“I thought you moved in with me because you knew I’d keep things interesting.”

With his free hand, Shiro reaches out, taking Keith’s front paw. He traces idle patterns over the toes, and, to his credit, Keith allows it, even as Shiro starts to squish them, just a tiny bit.

There were plenty of other reasons, of course, this being one of them. But, well…

“Yeah,” Shiro sighs, nearly as content as Keith. “I guess you’re right.”


End file.
